This Other Life
by duels.duets
Summary: It's not a power struggle if you've already won.


This Other Life

Pairing: Laura/Adar  
Disclaimer: Moore's the man with the master plan.

"Oh Gods…" She thinks as the Secretary of Defense stands to once again rail against the new budget cuts from the Adar administration. Sholene whispers in her ear that, "We get it, your mad that you won't get new toys this year." Laura feels herself smirking back in response, she catches Richard's eye and quickly pulls her professional, if not politely bored, face back on.

The meeting has already gone over by two hours, and no one, on either side of the debate can muster any energy into re-hashing the Secretary's complaints.

Laura Roslin stands but refuses to call any other attention to herself. Members of the meeting begin to swivel towards her anyway, away from Secretary Hemides. She smiles indulgently at them, and paces closer to Richard's chair. He is leaning back, and from this angle its likely he can see up her skirt. "Mr. President, may I take this opportunity to address the cabinet?" Richard nods his acquiescence, he's definitely been looking.

"I would just like this opportunity to thank Secretary Hemides for approving the cessation of so many of his funds to many of the government's currently underfunded departments. These concessions are clearly markers of a man with not only an eye to the future, but a good character."

"I'm sorry," Hemides is frowning deeply at both herself and the President, clearly unable to decide who he is more disgusted with, "Secretary Roslin but how is being unable to convince the President of the importance of his military budget a sign of looking to the future to you." He's decided, he definitely hates her more.

"Well Secretary Hemides, many of the allocations have been to Health care, to Education, to Social Reforms, you sir, are leading us out of our backwards war-time agenda, and into a future invested in our children, and I do, truly thank you for it…Unless of course you somehow disagree with supporting children, Mister Secretary?" She has him in headlock here, the other members of the forum look on approvingly, Hemides would look like an ass if he said anything to contradict her now.

Just as Hemides starts to puff himself up for another ineffectual round, Richard clears his throat. The President stands, and the Secretary of Defense wilts a little, realizing that his rant is now over. He throws a glare at Roslin, poised behind the President, as he sits.

"Ladies, gentleman, I think we've made real progress today," The President begins optimistically, Laura feels certain that she is one of the few who can hear exactly how much bullshit is threaded into his tone. "But I feel that at this point we are starting to get a little run down," He nods to the Secretary of Defense, and the room titters slightly. The energy is picking back up. People realizing that they'll get to leave soon. "So lets adjourn for today and commence tomorrow at two p.m., I think we all deserve a little lie-in." Polite applause at the good news, and the President throws a smile in her direction, she knows who the lie-in is intended for.

"Secretary Roslin." Laura halts halfway down the hall and turns as the President sedately makes his way through the throng towards her. The crowd parts before him, and Sholene, feeling that Laura no longer needs her for the day, slinks off. Laura is always amazed by how quickly these aides learn the routine.

"Mr. President?" She tries to sound bemused for the audience that is surely listening.

"I think the point you made during the Halfern report is worth analyzing further, I won't keep you long of course." Richard gestures towards the Presidential office, smooth as ever.

"I'd be happy to be as thorough as you want Mr. President." He leads them the rest of the way, waving off his security and opening the door for her, he strides past her as they enter, surprising her a little. He usually pins her to the door immediately. He likes it went she's thrown off balance.

"You were saying…Mr. President?" She's let her voice get a little huskier than is strictly professional, but she does want this little 'meeting' to go as quickly as possible, she does have plans.

He picks up on her impatience, "I thought you said this could be as thorough as I wanted it to be?"

She gives him the hard stare, and he comes around from his desk. He definitely wants to be in charge today.

"So did you wear that scandalous underwear for me today, or are you really a little slut, Secretary Roslin?"

He doesn't usually result to vulgarity, this game isn't just about sex anymore, he's upset about something. Laura, adapting quickly, "Well I did think you'd enjoy it when you eventually got around to looking up my skirt, but yes I am rather…brazen."

"Frakked anyone decent today?"

"Under or Over?" She's caught on, the Secretary of Defense has been sniffing around, he must have realized that many of the funds being cut from his budget are being directly allocated to Education.

The President sighs softly, he's getting closer to her, he hasn't given up the game but he is taking a short recess. "Hemides, is making serious accusations about the nature of these budget regulations. He thinks…" Richard starts to smirk. "…That you are blackmailing me." Laura raises an eyebrow. "That perhaps you are exercising some sort power over me."

The President is in her space now, his hips bump into her stomach and he towers over her. "Do you think thats true."

And Laura now can see the true reason for this meeting, he wants to make sure that she knows whose boss. She licks her lips once, a good display of nervousness, and then casts her eyes to the floor, attempts to look intimidated. "Of course not. Sir. Like you said, I'm just some s-slut." She stumbles at the end, she knows that he'll like it.

Richard thrusts her suddenly into his desk. His hips jutting into her painfully. His hands grip her hips powerfully, they skim down to the hem of her skirt, and begin to bunch the fabric, pulling it up her thighs. Her underwear is mildly scandalous—-in that its crotch-less.

He's unbuckling his belt quickly, the zip of his fly swift, she's doing her best to look aroused and scared, to part her knees hesitantly but to leave her hands dutifully gripping his desk.

And then the President is about to shove himself inside her, when he pauses. She's surprised he has any self control left at this point. When he looks into her eyes, there's a question. She nods minutely, mindful not to break the illusion. He ducks his head and then he spins her around suddenly, so that she's facing the desk. He pushes her into it so that she is bent at an almost ninety degree angle. He pushes her head into the wood grain and then wrenches it to the left towards the window. The whole of Caprica city in view. And then he pushes slowly into her. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't very wet. That this wasn't a game that they were both being allowed to indulge in.

One of his hands is twisted into her hair keeping her watching the city, his city. The other digs into her ass, keeping her in place. Her breasts strain through her shirt shoved into the hard surface of Richard's desk. Each thrust is him claiming her, claiming the world, they are his.

She can tell that she'll have bruises, that the meeting tomorrow will be physically uncomfortable. That every time she fidgets his eyes'll be on her, reminding her of this.

His hand comes around her front and he is now rubbing vigorously at her clit, he wants to own this too, and she knows that she is about to come, knows that she'll have to ask.

He's close, she can feel it in his grip, and he's getting rougher, knocking her more forcefully with each shove, he wants her to ask.

"Richard—-Richard please."

"…Come." And she does hard, and a little painful, and its exactly how she likes it, this rough, and demanding, and completely in her control. It pushes him over the edge, and with a strangled cry, he lands on her, spent.

She lets him have a minute, before she signals that its over. He gets off her, stands just behind her. They resume the game a little. She struggles with shaking fingers to pull her ruined panties into place. To straighten her skirt. She turns around and is careful to avoid his gaze. She swipes at the mascara that is now smudged under her eyes.

She stands in front of him, her lips quiver. "Sir," she clears her throat, "Will that be all?"

He moves around the desk and sits, without looking at her he adds, "Yes, I think we straightened out everything. Have a pleasant morning off Secretary Roslin."

They both look out the window to the city. To the world, she smiles to herself. Neither questions who's in charge. 


End file.
